


Confession

by ultragirlvfr750



Category: The Closer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 02:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3273500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultragirlvfr750/pseuds/ultragirlvfr750
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brenda Leigh gets called by her old squad to come down and drag a drunken Andrea and Sharon out of a bar.  General mayhem and a confession ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confession

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a Rogue submission for the 2nd Annual Brenda.Sharon Month of Love.

Brenda stalked into The Crime Lab, her heels a staccato on the tile, and headed unwaveringly toward the bar. 

Twenty minutes ago she had been sitting at her desk, a red twizzler dangling out of her mouth, obsessing over the Phillip Stroh file and his impending re-trial when her phone rang. She should have ignored it’s incessant tone because unfortunately now, in some surreal universe, she was pushing her way through a sea of upscale patrons, apparently to collect the Captain who had taken over her squad and her partner in crime this evening, the DA’s sassiest prosecutor, before they were unceremoniously booted out of the restaurant. 

“Uh, Chief, it’s Andy” it had been Andy Flynn on the other end of the line. “I mean, Special Investigator Johnson…’ his voice had trailed off.

“Yes, Lieutenant, I know who you are. I don’t often get calls from Major Crimes these days. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Actually there is, and it’s kind of delicate,” he’d continued, “That’s why we thought of you.”

“Quit perseveratin’ Lieutenant. What have you and Provenza gotten yourselves into this time?”

“Oh, it’s not us Chief,” Andy had replied quickly, defaulting to her former title, “I mean “I think maybe we have a situation. We closed the Harriman case today. You know that dirtbag who hacked   
his kids to death with a machete and then, unsuccessfully, tried to off himself?”

“I’m aware of the case Lieutenant Flynn. Just get to the point,” Brenda had been only half listening by that point, already turned back to the massive stack of files on her desk with Stroh’s name on them.

“Well we all went to The Crime Lab after, you know, to celebrate. And I think this case upset the Captain more than she might have been willing to let on.”

At the mention of Captain Raydor, Brenda had refocused her attention back to Andy Flynn with lightning speed.

“Anyway she and DDA Hobbs had some drinks,” Andy had continued.

“Some drinks?” Provenza’s growl had interrupted on the other end of the line. “The Captain and Andrea are drowning in bourbon and I think it’s safe to say the bar has cut them off. Damnit Flynn give me the phone.”

Static and then Provenza had been barking in Brenda’s ear.

“Lt. Prince Charming here has offered to chauffeur the Captain home but before we try to pry them away from the bar we thought it would be good if you could come down here and collect DDA Hobbs and deliver her wherever it is that DDA’s go when they’ve had too much to drink.”

“Why are you askin’ me?” Brenda had shot back, the irritation in her voice not altogether because of being torn away from her files.

“Because, Chief,” Provenza continued, “you work with her and frankly the situation is close to out of control and we thought it would be in the best interest of the department and DA’s office if the front page of the LA Times wasn’t plastered with a Deputy DA and an LAPD Captain getting tossed out of a restaurant on their collective ears. Or, as it happens at this moment, falling on top of one another.”

“They’re what?!” Brenda had heard herself screech.

“Tao and Flynn are propping them up, but stop arguing Chief and just get down here and help us.”

He’d hung up. It was just like Provenza to make it impossible to argue.

For heaven’s sake what had Sharon Raydor been thinking? What was she doing? And why on earth was she drinking with Andrea Hobbs? Brenda felt a stab of jealousy and violently pushed it away. Sharon could spend her off hours with whomever she pleased, Brenda didn’t care one way or another.

Except that she did care. Since her divorce from Fritz was finally official Brenda found herself more often than not, reaching out to the Captain. At first it was just a few phone calls under the guise of checking in with Rusty and how he was faring with the upcoming re-trial of the man who had tried to murder them both. But asking after Rusty soon gave way to texting that Brenda wasn’t at all sure was completely professional. She was not well versed in the art of flirting over technology but she was fairly certain that a number of the written conversations she’d had with Sharon over the past few weeks had been laced innuendo. 

They’d been out to dinner. Twice. Once to discuss a case that Brenda was working on that touched up against Major Crimes. There was a use of force issue and Brenda wasn’t surprised to find out that Julio Sanchez was involved. She and Sharon had commiserated on the difficulties of reining in Major Crimes’ resident enforcer and Brenda had spent the evening taking extreme satisfaction in surreptitiously watching Sharon. She had been mesmerized by the way the older woman did everything from tuck an errant strand of her perfectly polished hair behind her ear to her delicate handling of the chopsticks she used to pop their shared sushi rolls into her mouth. She remembered how her face had grown hot when she realized she couldn’t seem to drag her eyes away from the button that had sprung open on the Captain’s pressed shirt and the surprising amount of cleavage that it revealed.

Their second outing was a more casual affair and the closest thing to a date that Brenda had been on in the last six years. Dinner had been a warm up for taking a walk along the beach and it still   
amazed Brenda how easy the conversation was between them considering the animosity that had been so prevalent when they’d first met on opposite sides of David Gabriel. There had been a moment that night, fleeting and light. Sharon had laughed and thrown her head back at one of Brenda’s caustic remarks and Brenda had stopped short and simply stared at the woman walking next to her. The wind had mussed her hair and she was backlit by the setting sun. With her head tipped back, gold had mixed with the creamy skin on the column of Sharon’s neck and Brenda had felt her heart suddenly trip-hammering in her chest. She had to restrain herself from reaching out, pulling the older woman to her and tracing her fingertips over the light dusting of freckles that ended just under Sharon’s jaw. The only thing that had stopped her was the sudden realization that if she touched the Captain, even just for a moment, there would be no end to the touching. And Brenda hadn’t been sure she was ready for what that might mean. 

That evening had ended in the dark, in front of Brenda’s rented condo. She’d kept making excuses for delaying her departure, until finally Sharon had reached over and gripped Brenda’s hands in her own and brushed her lips against Brenda’s cheek.

“Good night, Brenda,” her voice had brooked no argument and Brenda’s cheek had burned with the touch. Like a naive teenager she stumbled to the front door, her hand pressed to her flaming cheek in some vain attempt to keep the feeling of Sharon’s lips pressed to her face.

Brenda hadn’t yet been bold enough to ask Sharon out again, but she had been hopeful. 

And now, as she stomped her way through the restaurant and saw Sharon and Andrea propped at the bar, flanked by Tao and Flynn, Sharon’s arm draped casually over Andrea’s shoulder, Brenda felt as if she’d been sucker punched in the gut as she watched Sharon lean into Andrea and whisper something in her ear. 

“Oh that woman!” 

Brenda’s nostrils flared and she clenched her teeth, weaving her way through the maze of tables toward her errant ex co-workers.

“Gentlemen,” her voice was terse.

“Oh thank God Chief,” Tao acknowledged while hitching his arm more tightly around Andrea’s waist. 

At the sound of her voice, Sharon turned toward Brenda, stumbling in the process and Brenda ground her teeth as Andy Flynn steadied the dark-haired woman with a hand that was far too close to the swell of Sharon’s hip for Brenda’s comfort. She filed that information away to address at a later time.

“Brenna,” Sharon crowed, her pupils like two large, black saucers almost obscuring the moss green of her eyes. 

“Finally! Y’er here.” 

She swept her arms open as if to enfold Brenda in an embrace, whacking Flynn and Andrea in the process.

“We. Are. Celebrating,” she enunciated.

“So I gather,” she retorted drily.

“We did’n jus get him,” Sharon continued expansively. “We got him to confess.”

Brenda cocked her head to one side, still very aware that Andy Flynn’s steadying hand was creeping lower and lower. She shot him a withering look.

“And thas when Andrea here made sure the death penalty was definitely,” she paused, “On. The. Table,” Brenda watched as with each word she stabbed her index finger against the marble surface of the bar. 

“Which truly,” she stopped as though searching for words, “is what that animal deserves.”

Her sharp bark of laughter held no humour. It was laced only with sadness and when Brenda caught Sharon’s eyes, suddenly, in a strange reversal of roles, she wanted nothing more than to shoo everyone away from them and simply draw the brunette into her arms. The alcohol had stripped away the Captain’s usual icy control over her features and even though she was drunk and smiling 

Brenda could hear the pain in her voice. 

“Isn’n tha right Andrea?” 

“Huh?” Andrea Hobbs, who had been resting her forehead on the bar, looked up and Sharon and smiled beatifically.

“The Captain was just telling Brenda that we got our confession,” Mike Tao supplied helpfully.

“Confession,” slurred Andrea. “Yes. He told us everything. In detail,” she turned to look at Brenda and reached out instinctively to grab Sharon’s arm, drawing the older woman close to her side. 

“And it was all because of this woman right here.” She blinked her eyes owlishly. “Bloody brilliant!”

Brenda had to forcefully stop herself from rolling her eyes. The only thing worse than a drunk Sharon Raydor was an even more intoxicated Andrea Hobbs. 

“In fact,” Andrea’s grin turned sly, “the confessions jus’ kept on a-coming didn’t they Sharon?”

Sharon ducked her head and then she giggled.

Just when she thought the evening couldn’t get any worse Brenda realized she was dead wrong.

Worse was having to listen to Sharon Raydor giggle over some in-joke she shared with Andrea Hobbs.

Worse was watching Andy Flynn’s proprietary air and wandering hands with his commanding officer.

Worse was having to cart the Deputy DA home when all she wanted to do was enfold Sharon in her arms.

“Congratulations on closin’ your case, Cap’n Raydor,” she said curtly and nodded toward the DDA. 

“Seems like y’all have done more than enough celebratin’. Lieutenant Tao if you’ll be so kind as to help me get DDA Hobbs to my car I’d appreciate it.”

“Sure thing Chief,” Tao said quickly, like Andy Flynn, reverting to her old title with an ease that made Brenda’s heart ache.

“Thank you so much.” 

Brenda slung the DDA’s purse over her shoulder and began herding the taller woman toward the exit. She willed herself not to look back at Sharon.

Brenda had forgotten how tall Andrea Hobbs actually was and she was thankful that Mike was helping guide the drunken prosecutor through the crowded vestibule and she was almost sweating when they reached the cool air of the street.

“Come on Andrea,” she cajoled, “Try puttin’ one foot in front of the other and for heaven’s sake stand up straight. Lieutenant Tao and I can’t be carryin’ you to the car.”

“For someone so slender she’s as heavy as a linebacker, Chief,” Tao said sotto voce over Andrea’s head.

“I heard that,” Andrea muttered. “I’m drunk. Not deaf.”

Brenda could feel the line of Andrea’s body leaning against her and indeed there was a solid strength about it that was not apparent at first glance. Her thigh muscle flexed and for a brief moment Brenda had a vision of those legs, bared, entwined around Sharon’s lithe frame, the two of them thrusting their hips against one another. A searing cramp of jealousy mixed with desire twisted in Brenda’s gut and for a moment her entire body burned hot and her vision blurred. 

“You ok Chief?” Tao asked and Brenda flushed scarlet.

“Fine, Lieutenant. Just fine. Try holdin’ her up while I get the door.”

Brenda yanked open the passenger door and watched with a certain amount of satisfaction as Andrea unceremoniously fell into the passenger seat, dragging her feet in after her.

Brenda slammed the door and reflexively smoothed her hair. The curls bounced back immediately but she seemed not to notice as she turned her attention to Mike Tao.

The night air was cool against her flushed skin and she wished she was at home on the small balcony that opened out from her bedroom, glass of merlot in one hand, perhaps absently stroking   
Joel’s soft fur and staring mindlessly up at the stars, instead of preparing to chauffeur her drunk co-worker home. 

Lord knew where Hobbs lived. Murphy’s Law said it would be in the exact opposite direction from her condo.

Beside her Michael Tao cleared his throat.

“Thank you, Lieutenant, for helpin’ get her settled,” Brenda waved her hand in her car’s general direction. “And, congratulations. On solvin’ your case.”

“Thanks, Chief,” Tao looked at her and drew a breath, as though he was going to say something, thought the better of it, and instead awkwardly stuck out his hand. Brenda took it. It was strong and warm and she realized that in the entire time she was his commanding officer she couldn’t remember whether she had ever shaken his hand. It felt oddly formal and familiar all at the same time and suddenly the aching sadness in her chest was back.

“Your welcome Lieutenant. Drive safely, now.”

“I should be saying that to you, Chief,” Tao chuckled. “Are you sure you won’t get lost?”

Brenda laughed as she opened the driver’s side door.

“Don’t you worry your head about me. I’m keepin’ up with times. Wonderful gadgets, GPS. Bye now.” She knew she sounded too cheerful and affected but her head was splitting and she just wanted the evening to be over.

She slid behind the wheel. At least Andrea was still wake which was something, considering she didn’t know where the DDA lived and she wanted to program her GPS in case Andrea passed out.

“I could have called a cab you know,” Andrea’s voice was subdued. “Andy called you but you didn’t have to come down here.”

“I was just makin’ myself crazy over the Phillip Stroh file anyway and we all know what a colossal waste of time that is.” Brenda jammed her keys in the ignition. “I need your address for this thing,” she gestured at the keypad on the car’s console.

“Unless you fancy us gettin’ lost.”

They drove in silence with only the occasional instruction issuing from the car’s computer between them. Brenda had been right. They didn’t live anywhere near one another.

“You and Cap’n Raydor seem cozy,” as soon as she spoke Brenda cursed the jealousy laced in her voice.

Andrea’s snort filled the car, startling Brenda. She shot a glance at the sandy-haired woman next to her before turning her eyes back to the road. Beside her Andrea’s snort gave way to uncontrollable laughter. 

“What on earth are you findin’ so hilarious?”

“I’m sorry,” Andrea clapped her hands over her mouth, trying vainly to stifle her giggles.

Brenda stole another glance at the Deputy DA, her face obscured by the curtain of her blonde hair. She pulled it off her face in a sweeping motion that Brenda found oddly sensual.

The DDA squirmed sideways in her seat and Brenda could feel her piercing blue eyes seek her out in the darkness of the cab.

“Sharon,” Andrea said. “That is her name.”

“I’m well aware of that,” Brenda answered, “I just like keepin’ things professional is all.”

“You can take the girl out of Atlanta, but you can’t take Atlanta out of the girl,” coming from Andrea the expression was soft instead of sarcastic and instead of being offended Brenda found herself laughing.

“This case was horrible for her you know,” Andrea went on, her voice low and measured. It was almost as though the subject matter was sobering her up as she spoke. 

“She rarely goes to crime scenes, Sharon,” the DDA continued. “Do you know why?”

Brenda shook her head, biting her lower lip. She had some idea as to why Sharon Raydor didn’t view the dead bodies she investigated in the tableaux where they were found.

“Sharon’s a delegator. Always has been, and she likes to make Provenza feel like he’s cock of the walk. But the real reason is because she’s smart enough to know that with a heart like hers, she needs a certain amount of distance from her victims. Otherwise her career as head of Major Crimes would be short lived.”

“Cap’n Raydor…Sharon,” Brenda corrected herself, “is no shrinkin' violet.”

“I didn’t say that,” Andrea countered. “But she does have a certain amount of,” Andrea searched for the right words, “empathy. Empathy that she can’t switch off.”

Brenda nodded slowly.

“She went to the Harriman scene, Brenda.” 

Andrea’s words were coming relentlessly now and the hair prickled on the back of Brenda’s neck. She bit her lower lip and realized she was clenching the steering wheel much too tightly. 

“He hacked them to bits with a machete,” her voice was barely audible. “Those children were mutilated in ways that are beyond description. He flayed them. Morales says most of them were alive while he did it. The room where we found them was drenched in blood. There was pools of it like a lake…”

“Jesus Christ, Andrea, stop!” Brenda’s ears were ringing. Suddenly there was not enough oxygen in the car for both of them. “I don’t want to hear this. Please.”

The GPS unit announced that their destination was on the right in its best imitation of a sunny newscaster, starling both of the women. Brenda hit the brakes and they skidded to a halt, next to the curb in front of Andrea’s house. 

Brenda slammed the car into Park and turned to face the woman in the seat beside her.

“You don’t want to hear me talk about it. Sharon had to see it,” Andrea said gently. 

“When she got the call she knew there’d be a media circus. She knew she needed to be there, if for no other reason than to make sure the chain of evidence didn’t get screwed up. You know what those scenes are like.”

Brenda nodded mutely.

“She’s had nightmares about it. I know she spends time with you. I thought she might have at least mentioned it.”

Brenda felt her face flush again for the second time that night. This time in shame instead of anger. 

The last time she’d been with Sharon they’d talked mostly about the end of her divorce, finding her new condo and how surprisingly difficult she’d found it without Joel until she’d convinced Fritz she’d wanted their shared cat full time. Sharon had been quiet and had seemed happy to simply listen while Brenda prattled on. 

“I should have asked her,” Brenda found it hard to meet the blonde’s eyes. “Sometimes it’s maddenin’ to me that when it comes to workin’ I listen better than most anyone, but when it comes to personal stuff…..” her voice trailed off.

Andrea put her hand over Brenda’s. It was warm and strong, yet surprisingly soft. Brenda found she didn’t mind.

“Today, getting that confession, making sure it was done right so there was no room for that sick fuck to wiggle out of the death penalty,” Andrea’s voice thickened with emotion. “That was a triumph for her. She was so cool under pressure. Do you know she pulled me aside before she went in with him, alone, by the way. She made it clear that she was going to be, as she put it,   
‘conducting this interview Johnson style.”

“She what?” Brenda eyes widened.

“Major Crimes has made a lot of deals since your tenure there ended Brenda. You know that. Sharon was making it clear to me that there were no deals to be made in this case. She uses the term “Johnson Style” when she wants me to know that she’s going in to close. And she’ll do anything she has to in order to make that happen.”

Brenda felt a wash of emotions flood over her. Pride. Pain. Regret. And selfishly a longing to be back in command of her old squad, sitting across from murderers, with the ability to make them pay for what they had done. 

She shook her head.

“So tonight…,” the truth only just becoming clear.

“Tonight, I think she was finally able to lay it all down.”

Brenda felt her eyes brim and the tears threatened to spill over. She tried to imagine what it must have been like for Sharon to carry that burden, alone, all these months while she quietly tended to Rusty’s needs, the needs of her squad, her other cases and of course had made listening to Brenda a priority during the little time they had spent together. 

“And she drank too much,” Andrea continued. “A lot too much, obviously. We both did. I’m sure when she wakes up tomorrow she won’t be proud of it. But it was probably the best thing she could have done. Under the circumstances.”

Andrea extricated her hands from Brenda’s and Brenda realized she’d been gripping the other woman’s fingers so tightly that her hands felt numb.

“Why didn’t you have Flynn take you both home, here?” the words were out of Brenda’s mouth before she realized she’d said them. Too late, she was committed now.

“Why would she come home with me?” Andrea’s brow wrinkled.

“The two of you were so close, tonight,” Brenda stuttered, “hangin’ off each other, tellin’ secrets, or confessions, or whatever.” 

As soon as she spoke the words out loud she realized how utterly ridiculous they sounded and she had to force herself to hold Andrea’s gaze.

Fortunately it wasn’t hard because Andrea was off again in a fit of laughter. Brenda simply sat waiting and glared.

“Oh my God,” Andrea howled. “Oh Brenda, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh at you. And I’m not. Not really.” She stopped and took a deep breath trying to compose herself.

“Ok, yes I am. I am laughing at you because I can’t believe that I am sitting here, still fairly drunk by the way, across from a woman who is about sixteen shades of green with envy because she thinks that the woman who is head over heels in love with her is actually having some sort of clandestine affair with me.”

“What?” Brenda choked.

“That ‘other confession’ tonight, the one at the bar. Sharon finally got drunk enough to tell me that she has been carrying a torch for you since, well fucking forever, I guess. And she’s trying to figure out what the hell to do about it. She thinks you might be interested but she’s really not sure and somehow I’m supposed to help give her the inside track. Because we work together. Or something. The last part is a little blurry. We’d had a lot of shots by then.”

“What? I don’t….” Brenda floundered. “What?”

“You’ve already said that,” Andrea pointed out drily.

“I have?”

“Thee times actually, but who’s counting?”

Brenda studied her hands. Her heart was pounding and she felt as though she was standing at the edge of a precipice. The welter of emotions that bloomed inside her whenever she thought about Sharon threatened to overwhelm her completely. 

“I need time to think.”

“Don’t think too long, Brenda,” Andrea replied. “From what I can tell, Sharon actually loves you. And it’s fairly obvious that you’re completely besotted with her as well. That doesn’t happen very often. Especially the second time around.”

Andrea sighed and shifted in her seat. She fished at her feet, found her purse and hefted it onto her lap.

“Thank you for the ride home, Brenda. We should do it again sometime.”

Brenda snorted in reply.

“We can all three of us get drunk together.”

“Now that’s somethin’ we’d have to keep in the vault,” Brenda shot back. “I wouldn’t want to be responsible for the heart attack that would finally chain Provenza to his desk.”

Andrea smiled at her then. It was wide and open, but in the glow from the street light Brenda could see something shot through in her eyes, pain, or the kind of bitterness you get used to when you realize that the thing you want will forever be beyond your reach. 

“Oh, no…Andrea,” Brenda’s voice broke.

In one swift movement Andrea leaned over and kissed Brenda, hard. But her lips were soft, and through her shock Brenda couldn’t bear to refuse her, to deny her at least this one kiss. She reached up and cupped the blonde’s face gently with her hand, her lips moving against Andrea’s, coaxing them open. Their kiss deepened and the whiskey in Andrea’s mouth tasted like longing.   
Andrea pulled at her hair but when her tongue brushed against Brenda’s the blonde gently pulled away.

She pulled Andrea into a fierce embrace.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” she whispered, her mouth against the silky softness of Andrea’s hair.

“You’re not the only one who’s good at keeping secrets,” Andrea sighed, her breath hot against Brenda’s ear. 

“Thank you. I wanted to know, even if it was only once.”

They pulled apart and Brenda’s smile was lopsided. Andrea mirrored it with one of her own, gathered her things, and opened the door. 

She managed to pull herself out of the car in a fairly dignified manner given the amount of alcohol she'd consumed. At the last moment she turned, the smile in her eyes impish, no longer holding any of its former longing.

“Besides, Special Investigator Johnson, I think I may just be the first woman you’ve kissed, and if I’m right about what’s about to happen next, it would be a serious crime if the only woman you ever lock lips with in your life is Captain Sharon Raydor.”


End file.
